


you're not poison but i'll still drink you down

by ObscureReference



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Food, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character(s), Misunderstandings, Not Really Character Death, Poison, Romantic Comedy, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscureReference/pseuds/ObscureReference
Summary: “What are you eating,” Xander said flatly.It wasn’t a question.





	you're not poison but i'll still drink you down

**Author's Note:**

> This plot is directly derived from a conversation I had with Kimium months and months ago.

“What are you eating,” Xander said flatly.

It wasn’t a question.

Laslow froze in the middle of popping what might have been his tenth or twelfth berry into his mouth. He looked at Xander without turning his head.

From an outsider’s point of view, it might have seemed comical. Laslow’s mind was too busy racing to figure out what he had done wrong _this_ time to see the humor in it.

Usually Xander forbade Laslow and Peri eating when they were standing watch or trying to look intimidating backing Xander up while he did princely things. Something about distractions, looking the part, yadda yadda.

But even though Laslow was technically on duty at the moment, he wasn’t doing anything really _important_. Just general errands and the like. Nobody had ever chewed him out for having a snack while he walked from one tent to the other to deliver messages and take stock of their weapons, but it seemed there was a first time for everything.

“Uh,” Laslow said smartly. He dropped the very juicy, totally scrumptious berry in his hand back into its little sack as though that would hide it. “Nothing?”

He’d only managed to cross paths with Xander through pure happenstance. He wished Xander had found him half an hour from now, when Laslow was finished eating.

Though knowing Laslow’s luck, berry juice in the corner of his mouth would give him away even so.

As it was, Xander had seen him. And he was clearly unimpressed.

“Let me see those,” Xander said.

It wasn’t a request.

Normally Laslow might have teased Xander about seeing whoever was on cooking duty today if he was hungry, but Xander’s face was already so serious that Laslow didn’t want to push his luck this early on. He handed the bag over without protest.

Xander poured a handful of berries into his hand and stared at them for a moment.

His face went pale.

He dropped the berries, sack and all, to the ground.

“Hey!” Laslow protested. He was still hungry. “That’s my snack!”

Then he yelped in totally manly surprise when Xander grabbed his shoulders with a startlingly tense grip.

“Who gave you these?” Xander demanded, face suddenly very close. “How many have you eaten?”

“Whoa!” Laslow grabbed Xander’s wrists instinctively, but there was no way he’d be able to pry Xander’s hands away if he tried. “Are you alright?”

_“Answer the question.”_

The terseness in Xander’s voice caught him off guard. Laslow’s shoulders jumped under Xander’s broad palms.

“I—I don’t—”

 _“Laslow,”_ Xander said. His fingers dug into Laslow’s shoulders almost painfully.

“I don’t know! A handful, probably?”

At Xander’s growing look of horror, he rushed to explain, “I didn’t take them from our stocks or anything! I helped an elderly woman home this morning, and when she realized I was in the army, she gave me—”

“Poison,” Xander gasped, releasing him. “She gave you poison.”

“—a gift,” Laslow finished. That didn’t sound right. “Poison?”

Swifter than Laslow could scarcely process, Xander reached down and scooped the bag of berries from the dirt. Most of the berries had spilled across the ground by this point, but Xander didn’t seem to care. He stuffed them in his pocket and grabbed Laslow’s shoulders again, this time flipping him around as easily as he would a doll. He pushed Laslow forward and began to weave them through the tents. Laslow went stumbling along with him.

Several people had stopped to stare at their exchange. Laslow could feel his cheeks heating up under the weight of their combined gazes. Xander didn’t seem to notice.

“Milord!” Laslow said. “Where are we going?”

“The medical tent,” Xander replied, still pushing him along. Laslow could feel the warmth radiating from Xander’s body against his back as they moved. “Laslow, I’m not saying this to scare you, but it is imperative you stay calm right now.”

“Lord Xander—”

“Those berries are well known in this part of the world for their toxicity,” Xander continued without pause. “Even one or two is enough to kill a grown man within minutes. The fact that you’ve eaten several—"

Xander made a sound Laslow had never heard before.

He craned his neck back to look Xander in the face, but at the speed they were walking, he only caught a glimpse of Xander’s pained expression before he was forced to look ahead again. They were halfway to the medical tent.

Part of Laslow was touched that Xander clearly cared so much about his well-being.

He would have been more touched if Xander’s concern weren’t the result of a misunderstanding. One that Laslow had to clear up immediately, before things got out of hand.

“Milord,” Laslow tried again, “I appreciate the concern, but I’m sure you are mistaken! I have eaten berries just like that plenty of times before, and never have I had as much as a stomachache!”

Which was really saying something, considering most Nohrian food made Laslow want to curl up on his bed with cramps. He’d learned to take note of foods that _didn’t_ make him sick. These berries certainly didn’t.

He felt more than saw Xander shake his head behind him. “I wish that were true. You have been in my service for several years, Laslow, but I know you are not from Nohr. Every man, woman, and child in this part of the world can recognize those berries on sight, even if you may not. There is no mistaking them.”

Xander was acting so harried and anxious and so— _not_ Xander that his words must have been true. The berries Laslow had eaten must have been quite famous.

But Laslow was also certain that he _had_ eaten those berries before. Had picked them right off the bush himself, even. And even if not, he felt rather fine now, Xander’s forceful hastiness aside.

“With all due respect, I really think—”

“Inside, quickly,” Xander ordered, pushing Laslow into the medical tent. “We don’t have much time.”

Laslow stumbled in and stopped by the tent entrance. Xander pushed past him, all squared shoulders and handsome dignity.

It must have been a slow day, because there was only one healer that Laslow could see when they entered. The rest of the tent was empty. Her head snapped up at Xander’s arrival.

“Lord Xander!” she said, straightening. “Are you injured?”

“Not me,” Xander said. He pulled the mostly empty sack of berries out of his pocket. Several spilled into Xander’s palm. He presented them to the healer.

She gasped when she saw them, laying a hand over her heart. “Where did you find these?”

Xander glanced Laslow’s way.

Laslow waved at him.

Frowning, Xander turned back to the healer and spoke in low tones. The healer must have registered Xander’s need for discretion, because she nodded a lot when Xander spoke and replied in whispers. Laslow could only catch snatches of their conversation.

“My retainer… unaware… toxic…”

“…unfortunate…”

“…the chances… cure?”

“…more than four… mere minutes at best…”

It was a quick conversation, but by the end of it the healer had turned to look at Laslow with sad eyes. Xander’s shoulders had slumped like somebody had placed the weight of the world on them. Every line in their bodies was laced with regret.

When Xander turned to face him, Laslow stared, lips parted in surprise.

Somehow, within the span of moments, Xander had gone from looking like his normal, if somewhat frazzled, self to looking terribly, gut-wrenchingly _devastated_.

Laslow’s mouth had gone dry.

“I see,” Xander said, voice grave. He was talking to the healer, but he was looking at Laslow. “May I… have a few moments alone with him?”

The healer nodded respectably, face solemn. “Of course.”

She stepped out.

They both looked so sorrowful that Laslow felt he _ought_ to have been dying, even though he was still relatively sure he wasn’t.

“I’m really fine!” he called after the healer as she left. She had a matronly look about her; she probably had several years on him, but Laslow wouldn’t mind going to tea with her once he lived through this.

Because he was almost certainly going to live through this.

“Laslow,” Xander said.

Laslow turned back. Then he craned his neck _up_ , because Xander was standing in front of him and the man was like a mountain in comparison.

“Milord,” Laslow greeted.

Xander’s lips parted like he was going to say something. Then he shut his mouth, seemingly thinking better of it.

“Wow,” Laslow joked, trying to break the tension that had suddenly fallen over the tent. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words before.”

He smiled up at Xander.

Xander lifted his hand like he was going to touch Laslow—like he was going to lay his hand on Laslow's face.

Laslow froze in anticipation, heart pounding.

“Laslow,” Xander said quietly, eyes scanning Laslow’s face. “You…”

Laslow’s breath caught.

Xander dropped his hand. Laslow’s chest ached with disappointment.

“You should sit down,” Xander said. He gestured to the raised cot nearby. It was intended to be used as an examination table or rest bed for patients. For people who needed it.

Laslow definitely did not need it.

“Milord, I’d rather—"

Xander said, “I would like it if you sat down.”

Laslow sat down.

Xander hesitated at the foot of Laslow’s cot, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself. It was a tall cot, purposely raised, and Laslow was a short person. His feet barely scraped the dirt floor.

As heartwarming as it was to see how much Xander cared about him, Laslow did not relish causing his prince this much distress. Nor did he want to put up with this nonsense any longer.

Was this what Xander felt like when Laslow disobeyed him, he wondered?

“Lord Xander,” Laslow said, breaking the silence. “I appreciate all you’ve done so far, but I really must emphasize the fact—"

Xander’s eyes fell shut. “Hush, Laslow.”

“—that I am _not_ dying,” Laslow finished stubbornly. “Really, milord, I feel perfectly fine.”

“I’m sure you do,” Xander said with a tone that indicated he did not believe Laslow in the slightest. Like he thought Laslow was trying to be _brave._ “Just… Please let me have this time with you, if you would.”

There was no way Laslow could say no to that. Not when the look on Xander’s face made Laslow’s throat go so tight he couldn’t speak.

Laslow chewed on his lower lip briefly and nodded.

He immediately regretted that decision when Xander went and _got on his knees in front of Laslow_.

“Milord!” he squeaked, hands scrabbling at Xander’s shoulders. “What are you doing? This isn’t proper!”

Laslow had never imagined that _he_ would be the one to lecture Xander on what was proper. But it seemed today was a day full of firsts.

Xander, heedless of Laslow’s protests, remained on the ground. He plucked one of Laslow’s hands from his chest and clasped Laslow’s hand between two of his own.

Laslow’s felt his cheeks turn warm. He stopped tugging at Xander’s shirt with his other hand.

Xander breathed out through his nose heavily. He dipped his head forward, eyes sliding closed as he pulled Laslow’s hand closer to his face.

“I told you about my previous retainers once,” Xander said. Laslow almost strained to hear him. “They died because I was weak. I told myself that would never happen again. That I would never force anyone to sacrifice themselves on my behalf a third time. I made you promise never to make me experience something like that again.”

Laslow laid his hand on top of Xander’s own.

“I’m not leaving you yet,” he said.

Xander didn’t seem to hear him. “I was foolish. Fate must be laughing us now. To be separated not by the sword but because of something as small and simple as a berry…”

Somebody threw the tent flap aside with a huff. Xander lifted his head to look.

Laslow turned as well. It was Leo.

“Xander,” Leo said, eyebrows furrowed. He was still holding the flap aside and only seemed half as surprised to see Xander kneeling before Laslow as Laslow thought he should have been. “You made a scene back there. What’s this I hear about Laslow dying?”

Solemnly, Xander detangled his hands from Laslow’s in order to hold up one of the few remaining berries he had. Leo barely glanced at them before his eyes widened in surprise.

“Are those—”

“Yes,” Xander said regretfully. “I’m afraid it’s too late.”

Leo looked at Laslow like he thought Laslow a madman. “ _Why_ would you eat a single one of those?”

Laslow threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

“I didn’t know!” he cried, completely forgetting that he hadn’t really eaten any poison for a moment. “I just thought it was a snack! I would have taken them from anybody!”

“ _Did_ you take them from somebody?” Leo asked.

Xander had taken Laslow’s hand in his own again.

Distracted, Laslow said, “I mean, the first time—"

Leo hastily interrupted him with a more important question: “Did you _offer_ them to anybody?”

“Oh,” Laslow said automatically, blinking. “Yeah, I shared some with Odin earlier—"

Leo’s face went pale. He immediately turned tail and sprinted back out of the tent.

“—but he’s also had them before, and he was fine then… so…”

Laslow trailed off weakly. He looked back down at Xander, who stared back with almost pitying eyes.

He said, “You know, killing one of my best friends would feel a lot worse if I was actually killing him.”

Xander stroked the back of his hand.

“It’s not your fault,” he said gently. “You’re not from Nohr. You had no way of knowing. And like a fool, I simply assumed you did.”

Xander sighed through his nose and shut his eyes, resting his forehead on Laslow’s knee.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice thick. “I can’t begin to ask for your forgiveness, Laslow.”

He looked so _broken_ in that moment, kneeling at Laslow’s feet on the dirty floor. Laslow’s heart twisted.

“You’re already forgiven,” Laslow assured him gently. Xander’s breath hitched. “But really, Xander, it’s _fine_.”

“You’re always hiding your hurt beneath that mask of yours,” Xander said without looking up. “Even here at the end, you can’t bring yourself too share the truth. Not even just between the two of us. I don’t know whether you’re trying to spare me the pain or yourself. You never change, Laslow.”

 _Am I dying?_ Laslow wondered. He was beginning to doubt himself. Especially with Xander looking at him like _that_ , saying things Laslow hadn’t dared to imagine even within his dreams. He even ignored the fact Xander had just blatantly called him out on concealing his secrets with smiles. 

All that was missing from this new, fantastical reality was for Xander to kiss him. Then Laslow would really know he’d really died and gone to heaven.

But that certainly would be too much, he told himself. That wouldn’t happen.

Would it?

Laslow took mental stock of himself once again. He still felt very much alive.

His heart was fluttering a little, but Laslow chalked that up more to the prince kneeling between his legs rather than any poison he definitely hadn’t ingested.

In a surge of boldness, Laslow gently ripped his hands from Xander's grasp and lifted the underside of Xander's chin. Xander's face was angled towards him, but Laslow couldn’t help anxiously averting his eyes as he spoke.

“Milord,” he said softly.

“Please,” Xander said, voice equally kind. “Call me Xander.”

No titles then.

Laslow’s heart skipped another beat. This seemed too good to be true.

“Xander.”

Xander wrapped his fingers around Laslow’s ankle loosely and squeezed. Sparks shot up Laslow’s leg.

“Xander,” he said again. “You haven’t lost me yet.”

He looked up just in time to catch Xander press his mouth into a thin line, as though Laslow’s words pained him.

Xander squeezed his ankle again, weaker this time. “Perhaps not yet. But right now, tomorrow, in a year—I will eventually lose you, Laslow.”

“No!” Laslow said with a forcefulness that surprised even himself. Xander’s eyes widened as Laslow cupped Xander's cheeks. “That’s not necessarily true! In life, we may lose many people. Death is the thing most often out of our control. But we may have many years between us yet, mi—Xander. And… I would spend the rest of mine by your side, if you'd allow.”

It was impossible to mistake Laslow’s words for anything less than the confession they were meant to be. He might have tried to disguise them as an oath a retainer could conceivably swear to his lord without meaning anything more, but the shroud was flimsy at best. Tissue thin.

They were words he never thought he’d confess to Xander’s face, but Laslow had meant what he said. Every bit of it.

He let his arms drop.

Laslow’s cheeks burned. He stared at the floor, wondering if he’d made a terrible mistake. If he should have just died like the world was apparently telling him to instead of getting carried away by the moment.

“I…”

The sound of Xander’s voice forced Laslow to look back. He sucked in a breath.

Xander’s eyes shined. He looked up at Laslow with what Laslow could only assume to be hopeful hesitance.

“I would like that very much,” he said.

Laslow’s heart felt fit to burst out of his chest. He swore he'd gone lightheaded with relief.

“Oh,” he breathed.

Which was as far as he got before Xander slowly rose to his feet. Xander placed a deliberate hand on the back of Laslow’s neck.

There was plenty of time to say something as Xander leaned down, eyes half-lidded. But Laslow couldn’t bring himself to disturb the thrall that had fallen over the air. Not until Xander finally captured Laslow’s lips with his own.

Then Laslow made a sound he didn’t think he could make. He jerked back, embarrassed, but Xander’s hand on his neck kept their mouths pressed together. When Xander gave a huff of fond laughter, Laslow swallowed his self-consciousness and kissed back.

It was a very good kiss.

After a moment, Xander pulled away. It took effort for Laslow’s eyes to flutter open again.

“Is it too late to say I’ve liked you for some time now?” he asked, a little breathless.

Xander cocked his head, uncharacteristically playful.

“You only like me?” he teased.

Laslow couldn’t suppress the giddy smile that bubbled up on his face. “Perhaps I should rephrase that.”

“Please do.”

They kissed again. Laslow’s lips glided over Xander’s, slightly rougher than his own. Xander pressed against him, and Laslow let himself fall back against the cot. Xander crawled on top of him, all reservations seemingly cast aside. Laslow felt himself get lost in the sensation of Xander’s lips on his own.

This time when they parted, Xander buried his face into the crux of Laslow’s neck and breathed in. Laslow rested his arms around Xander’s back and stared at the tent ceiling in awe. Xander's body felt broad and warm against Laslow's.

Feeling as though he were laying on a bed of clouds, Laslow said, “I honestly never thought this could happen between us.”

He’d thought so for many reasons—their incompatible statuses, Laslow’s origins, and the sure assumption that Xander believed him to be an idiot among them. Plus so many other things. They still had to have the discussion about what Laslow would do once the war was over. But for now, Laslow was so overcome with euphoria that he wanted to savor the moment.

Xander seemed to feel the same.

“I know,” he said, breath ghosting Laslow’s skin. “My only regret is that I waited this long to say anything.”

Laslow ran his hand up and down Xander’s back. “I feel the same.”

“And now it’s too late.”

The bed of clouds instantly dissipated.

Xander couldn’t see him, but Laslow made a face anyway. He pushed at Xander’s chest without much force, but the message was clear. _Get off._

“Seriously?” Laslow said as Xander sat up with a confused expression. He kept pushing until Xander was standing again. Laslow got to his feet as well, the back of his legs knocking against the raised cot. “Xander, I told you. I’m not dying.”

If anything, Xander looked sadder. Heartbroken, even.

“I know this is a difficult situation to face, but you can’t deny—"

“ _Xander_ ,” Laslow said firmly, taking Xander’s hand and squeezing. “How long has it been since you caught me eating those berries? And how long do you think I was eating them _before_ you found me? If these berries are truly as toxic as you say, shouldn’t I look and feel a lot more sick by now?”

Xander hesitated, but he said, “Perhaps. I am no physician. But I know for a fact these berries are one of the deadliest foods in all of Nohr.”

“Xander, you said it yourself. _I’m not from Nohr._ Have you perhaps considered that these berries are only toxic to _you_?”

Xander seemed skeptical.

“How could you be immune?” he asked. “I have seen more than one unfortunate soul become deathly ill from mistakenly eating _one_ , nevertheless a handful.”

Laslow shrugged helplessly, jostling Xander’s hand in his own at the movement. “I’ve seen a lot of crazier things, to be honest. I once knew a woman who could eat fruit that made a lesser man’s skin blister.”

Granted, Panne was a Taguel, and Yarne had always been too much of a coward to try the same thing himself. But his point still stood.

“Some people are allergic to dairy and some aren’t,” Laslow said, mind racing. “Some people can see colors others can’t. Some people catch diseases that others don’t! I _promise_ you, Xander. I have eaten these berries before, and I didn’t feel a thing. Isn’t it possible that they just don’t affect me?”

After a long moment’s hesitation, Xander nodded.

“I suppose,” he said slowly. A look of understanding slowly began to take over his features. “But then, if you are _not_ dying…”

Laslow’s heart sank.

“Do you—” He bit his tongue. “That is to say, if you only said what you did under duress…”

He tried to gently untangle their hands, but Xander stopped him. Xander kept his fingers deliberately curled around Laslow’s. A wave of relief washed over Laslow.

“No,” Xander said, voice resolute. His tone was serious, but even Laslow couldn’t miss the relief mixed in there as well. “Absolutely not. I’ve never regretted anything with you. Not anymore.”

“Good,” Laslow said, face tilted up towards Xander’s. “Because I think there’s still a lot we have to share with one another.”

“Agreed.”

For a moment, Laslow thought they were going to share a third— _third!_ his mind screamed—kiss. Even though Xander was finally convinced of the fact Laslow was going to live, he still looked tired. The stress of the last few minutes had taken a lot out of him. It had taken a lot out of Laslow too. He thought they both deserved a little more time to _de_ -stress.

Instead, Xander abruptly stepped back, dropping Laslow’s hand. “Let’s get back to work then.”

Laslow choked on air. “Uh, what? Seriously?”

Xander paused, already halfway out the tent exit. He looked over his shoulder at Laslow.

He looked remarkably collected for a man who had just thought Laslow mere seconds from death, Laslow thought. He gaped at Xander.

“Of course,” Xander said without a hint of laughter. “It’s only midday. There’s still much to be done before this evening.”

Laslow was sure he’d need a shovel to scrape his jaw off the floor.

“Xander,” he said, mentally scrambling. “Milord—"

“Then, when we are both finished,” Xander continued, “you should come meet met in my tent. As you said, we have much to share.”

Laslow straightened instantly. His mouth snapped shut.

Whatever Xander had planned for them—whether it be a discussion about their future or something more—he was ready for it. Laslow wanted it all with Xander, good and bad.

And it had only taken nearly dying to get there.

“Understood!” Then he thought about their respective roles in the daylight and corrected, “I mean—understood, milord.”

He knew he was smiling goofily, but there was no way he was going to stop anytime soon.

Some of Laslow’s giddiness must have rubbed off on Xander and broken through his princely mask of professionalism. Or perhaps Xander simply had a secret soft spot he couldn’t repress either.

Whatever the reason, he dropped the tent flap and came back to Laslow, pecking him quickly on the cheek. Laslow stood on the balls of his feet to meet him faster.

“Laslow?” Xander said with exasperated fondness.

This was familiar territory. Laslow’s smile grew. “Yes?”

“Please stop taking suspicious food from strangers.” Xander fixed him with an unamused look. “Better yet, stop taking food from strangers, period.”

Laslow laughed, too happy for the reprimand to even sting. “I’ll try my best going forward.”

**Author's Note:**

> The mention of Panne's diet comes from her Support with Stahl in Awakening. The fact Laslow (and, by extension, Odin and Selena) can eat these berries and be perfectly fine comes back to my HC about different biology in characters from Awakening versus Fates. Because they're still human, but they're also technically from another reality/planet/dimension, you know? 
> 
> EDIT: Because I forgot to mention it the first time--Xander immediately dies at the end of this fic because he kissed Laslow twice and ended up ingesting some of the berry juice from the kiss. It's really unfortunate. I just got too lazy to write that part. Sorry. :/ (JK, he's fine. His mouth maybe feels a little numb for like 10 minutes though.)
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment below or hit me up on my [tumblr!](http://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> **Omake:**
> 
>    
> “Odin!” Leo yelled, sprinting into the mess hall. 
> 
> Odin perked up instantly, as did several other members of the army sitting inside. He seemed to notice neither the fear or the volume of Leo’s voice. Next to him, Niles whipped around, already tense.
> 
> “Lord Leo!” Odin greeted, waving jovially. “Come, join Niles and I for our afternoon sustenance! Today there has been a splendor of—”
> 
> Leo paid no mind to Odin’s words, nor to anything else. He ran over and gripped Odin by the shoulders, shaking him—perhaps a _tad_ hysterically, Leo would admit later.
> 
> “Did you eat those berries Laslow gave you earlier?” he demanded without preamble. His voice was too loud even to his own ears. People had begun whisper.
> 
> “I—Yes!” Odin said, startled. He’d dropped his fork. “Was that wrong? Milord, are you—"
> 
> Leo shook him harder, as though that could somehow jostle the berries back out of him.
> 
> “You need to get sick right now!”
> 
> Odin gaped, looking utterly bewildered. He had also begun to look a little pale from all the shaking. 
> 
> “Excuse me?”
> 
> “Right now!” Leo repeated.
> 
> Niles had already begun to approach Leo warily, hands raised in a soothing posture. “Milord, please calm down.”
> 
> “There’s no time!”
> 
> Needless to say, it was a long day for everyone.


End file.
